


Sucks to have a beating heart

by andaleduardo



Series: Moments when Richie Tozier felt like there was hope [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: BDD, Body Dysmorphia, Depression, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, a real fucking hug can make miracles, self hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 22:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andaleduardo/pseuds/andaleduardo
Summary: “You… don’t want to be touched?”  There’s something readable in Eddie’s face, he’s trying hard to understand, to say the right thing.I don’t want you to touch me. There’s a difference, can you see it?





	Sucks to have a beating heart

**Author's Note:**

> My only disclaimer is, everyone goes through things differently. If you feel like this isn't a respectful demonstration of certain mental illnesses, I would just like to say that this is the way I deal with them, this is real for me, so please respect that. And have that in mind, this can be triggering, although I didn't make it up to be that way, just be warned.
> 
> Also, a hug can speak louder than words. Thouch is very powerful.

There’s someone on the other side of his bedroom door.

Richie gets his head under the heavy covers. He doesn’t answer to the knocking. His only focus is his breathing, scalding and suffocating.

Sometimes, he wishes he could drown like this. Sleepy and sweaty and a step away from recklessness.

The knocking stops, but the person’s intentions don’t. The knob turns, its sound distinguishable even if he’s underwater. Except the water consists of damp sheets that stick to his body from all the anxiety that turned into droplets of despair on the surface of his skin.

Richie knows it’s Eddie, and he’s not happy about it.

“I know you’re awake.”

“I’m not in the mood.” Cold words hang in the air. Temperature contrast.

Richie has his back to the general direction of the door, therefore, Eddie. But he can’t remember if he’s still laying upright or diagonally. Either way, he’s hidden from whoever decided to bug him at this time of day…

Or night.

The blinds are closed, have been for a while. Why bother with a clock? He’ll piss when he feels like pissing. He’ll drink if his throat knows how to beg. He won’t eat, though. He doesn’t need to add ‘puking’ to the list of “Physical and emotional ways I’m suffering that I don’t fucking understand”. What’s there to understand about vomit anyway?

It’s just another bodily function that makes no sense. Food isn’t supposed to travel upwards. Your tongue isn’t supposed to taste the horribleness that is stomach acid.

“Are you sick or something?” Eddie’s steps are closer. He’s probably dodging through the trash accumulated on the floor to reach the windows.

“Yeah, of you.” Richie replies. His throat feels funny, has felt for as long as he’s been here. “If you touch those blinds, I’ll kill you.”

Eddie flinches away from the window. How could Richie tell what he was about to do?

“With what strength? Your mother said you’ve been here the whole weekend.”

“Yeah? What’s your point?” The covers don’t budge under his words. It’s almost like he’s not breathing at all.

“Today’s Tuesday.”

The room falls quiet for seconds. Richie just wants to be alone. “That’s a shitty point.”

Eddie ignores the accusation. “Are you actually sick?”

“Something like that. Go away.”

“Do you really want me to go away?”

“Yes.” He fails to notice Eddie moving closer. A heavy grown escapes his lips once, obviously, someone sits by his feet, even managed to squish down some of his toes in the process. Richie bends his legs higher, escaping the trap of Eddie’s weight.

Finally, he gave in to the condensed air and had to expose his face down to his nose. The coldness of the room brushed against his cheeks, sending a shiver down his body. Richie regrets this decision, because one second later, Eddie is repeating his question, and this time Richie’s face is out to the world.

“Do you really want me to go away?” Eddie’s voice sounds smaller, softer.

“I already told you to fuck off five times. If you haven’t left by now, I assume you’re not doing it on the sixth time.” He stays put, however, eyes closed and throbbing eyelids.

Eddie stays quiet for a while. “It was only four times…”

What the fuck is he on about?

“And I’m only insisting because you may need company without wanting it.”

“What are you? My therapist?”

“ _Richie._ ” Eddie warned. After a long breath intake, Richie got his head under the covers again.

“I’ll let you stay if you keep quiet.”

Eddie gets up then, and for a moment, Richie thinks he’s about to start cleaning the bedroom. He even got his head out again to start complaining, but before he knows it, Eddie is walking around the bed to properly climb in on the side with more room.

Richie stays silent. His mind gets louder, and there’s a battle going on inside. He wants to move, get away, more space between them. But Eddie is already getting under the covers, and Richie does nothing besides watching him closely.

He’s shaking with fear for something he doesn’t quite understand. As soon as Eddie lifts a hand with the purpose to lay it upon Richie’s forehead, he freezes, closes his eyes, and the air feels too thick to fill up his lungs without pain.

“Please don’t touch me…” Low, so low, his whispers fill the space left between the two bodies. Although he cannot see, Richie knows Eddie’s stoned in place, hand hovering in the middle of its track.

“You… don’t want to be touched?”

Richie slowly opens his eyes. There’s something readable in Eddie’s face, he’s trying hard to understand, to say the right thing.

_I don’t want you to touch me._

It invades his brain like a bullet. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be touched. It’s just that he doesn’t want anyone to touch him.

To have to touch him and go through that burden.

 _There’s a difference, can you see it?_ But that’s not something he can just ask, or expect anyone to understand.

Their eyes are still locked together. Eddie seems to be coming up to his own little conclusions, if Richie could assume from the way his expression softens.

“What if…” Eddie’s breath itches when he cuts the silence. More than ever, Richie is aware of his whole-body weight. “What if I want to touch you…? Would that better?” He pauses. “If I touched you … because I want to?”

Richie’s eyes advert to the palm outstretched to him. He lets it happen, he allows Eddie’s cold hand to come in contact. It lingers there.

“You’re burning up.” Eddie states, voice careful and calculated, and soft worried eyes. Next thing he does is to retrieve his hand and scoot lower in the bedsheets. Richie’s bending his neck at a weird angle, so he turns around on his side to face him.

“Is it one of those days?” Eddie asks after Richie’s settled. He doesn’t know what Eddie means by that. What days?

Richie shrugs anyway, it makes his muscles ache from the lack of movement and rest.

“More like week.” It was unexpected, but his voice broke. He wasn’t ready to start crying, and yet, here he is, a suddenly shaking jaw and eyes pinched closed together. The tears are persistent, they always find a way to escape, getting stronger the longer you put them on hold.

Eddie is on him in an instant, crowding his space, touching his wrists that came up to, somehow, cover up the fact that he was hiccupping and sobbing.

 _“I-I’m not crying!”_ It’s a stupid thing to say, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care. Maybe Richie is begging for it to stop with the wrong words.

“Rich, you’re allowed to let out your emotions.” Eddie sounds calm, put together. He managed to push Richie’s hands out of the way and now he’s trying to embrace him in a hug without being pushed away.

Richie doesn’t fight it, surprisingly. He’s getting hugged, being held, and fuck he’s missed it. He misses feeling loved with physical contact and not anxious over it. It’s sad how much a brain can change, but right now, it’s cooperating.

Richie cries harder.

He’s a complete mess. He’s sweaty, heartbroken, crying, dirty. He lacks sleep, probably nutrition, but right now? Right now everything got better. Even if he can’t stop his outburst of emotions, there’s reassurance in the way he’s being treated, and Eddie doesn’t let go. He grips him tighter and moves so that he can hold Richie’s head to his chest.

It takes a really long time for Richie to calm down. Eddie keeps petting his back and head through the exhausting process, keeps telling him it will all feel better soon, maybe not _be_ better, but it will _feel_ better, and Richie knows that.

Richie only stops out of exhaustion, but his body keeps shaking and he still has a death grip on the front of Eddie’s, now wet, shirt.  
Eddie evens out his own breathing, makes it louder and noticeable because he knows Richie will follow it. It works after some more agonizing minutes where the only sounds filling up the room are the pained, constantly breaking wheezes that Richie manages.

He finally calms down, and he feels even more tired than before, if possible. Richie wants to sleep, badly, and he thinks that this time it’ll actually work.

Allowing himself to relax, he can almost forget his headache by pressing his face to Eddie chest. It’s a different kind of warm, smells cleaner, feels softer than his pillow to him.  
At some point, Richie is lulled by Eddie’s soft humming, a tune he should recognize, but he’s not functional at the moment. And everything feels amazing, the heat is not suffocating anymore, his muscles aren't tensed up and rigid, he’s relaxed, maybe even an open curtain would feel good…

 _It’s one of those days…_ Richie understands now.

_It’s one of those days when you just feel so empty, you actually search for a heartbeat and get upset when you find one._

But Richie thinks that’s okay. It sucks to have a beating heart, but it’s all worth it if he gets to fall asleep to the sound of Eddie’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far, hope it was enjoyable <3  
> I'd love to listen to your thoughts, and constructive criticism is welcomed!


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